


saddle up, cowboy

by ScorpioDream, somethingmorecreative



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Bull Rider Keith, Casual Sex, Celebrity Crush, Coming Untouched, Cowboy Keith (Voltron), Fan Lance, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hook-Up, Light BDSM, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pining Lance (Voltron), Restraints, Rodeo Competitions, Top Keith (Voltron), Wet Dream, keith is a professional bull rider, lance is obsessed with keith lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpioDream/pseuds/ScorpioDream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingmorecreative/pseuds/somethingmorecreative
Summary: “And what did I do to deserve such a beauty coming all the way here to see me in person?” Keith asked, voice low.Lance bit his lip and took a chance, looking up at him under his eyelashes, as he pitched his voice low enough to match Keith’s and breathed, “I don’t know. Why don’t you try to show me you’re worth all my attention?”Keith’s eyebrow inched up, one side of his mouth coming up into a slight smirk as he murmured, “I think I can manage that.”;;a bull rider keith au
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 588





	saddle up, cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends! stephanie and I are excited to share this fic with you! special thanks to maire for beta-ing this for us! you rock and your comments are the best things we've ever seen. We hope y'all like it too!
> 
> Let us know what you think about the fic! You can find us on tumblr @somethingmorecreative1 and @dreamdreaded and on twitter @smorecreative and @ScorpioDream3. Come say hi! 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy, and take care of yourselves xoxo

“Saddle up, cowboy,” the command hit Lance’s ears in a deep drawl, followed by a firm smack to his ass. 

Lance scrambled to follow the order and quickly straddled the naked man beneath him. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, that this was happening at all. 

Keith Kogane looked up at him and breathed, deep, rough, “Think you can do it, baby?” 

A pair of rough hands gripped Lance’s hips hard enough to bruise, and the flexing of the fingers on his hips had him looking up again. His eyes were dark, intense, his bangs sweaty and pushed back over his forehead. A sheen of sweat blanketed Keith’s hard body, pooling in the dips between his pectoral muscles and abs, and a thick trail of dark hair began just beneath Keith’s belly button and painted a path downwards. His impressive cock stood to attention, and Lance politely reached down to grasp it, stroke it. It was thick and heavy. 

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, sinking down heavily on Keith’s cock.

It was a tight fit, but Lance reveled in the feeling. He slowly rotated his hips, trying to get a feel for what both of them liked most. 

Keith’s breath hitched as Lance moved. His grip on Lance’s hips tightened even more as he helped Lance move. He planted his feet on the mattress, giving Lance a chance to use his knees as a prop to steady himself. 

Lance grinned down at the man beneath him. He tensed his thighs as he lifted up off of Keith’s cock before sinking back down. Both of them moaned as Keith filled Lance up again and again, Lance rising up and sinking back down. Keith remained still for several long seconds while allowing Lance to set the pace before thrusting up just as Lance sank down. 

A loud, long moan was pulled from Lance’s throat and filled the room. _Bingo_. Keith grinned, one sharp canine pressing into his lower lip. He repeated the action again and again, obviously enjoying the sounds Lance made. 

Lance could barely think for the pleasure.

“C’mon, baby,” Keith murmured, voice heavy, “you look so good on my cock.”

Lance moaned again, throwing his head back, mouth dropping open as Keith thrust upward again. It was too much, everything was too much. He never wanted it to end. Pleasure pulsed through his veins, igniting his body in heat. His stomach tightened, muscles clenching hard.

A final, simultaneous motion, and both of them groaned with relief. Keith’s calloused hands slid up Lance’s sweaty body to pull Lance down to rest. Lance shuddered, falling forwards into Keith’s waiting arms, still slick with sweat, and Lance’s eyes closed. 

The quiet was broken by the sudden blaring of an alarm clock, and Lance jerked awake. He was lying on his stomach, breathing hard, sweat coating his body. His boxers were wet and sticky. Keith was nowhere to be found. 

Of course Keith wasn’t here. Lance didn’t even know him.

It had been a dream, a wonderful, hot, sexy dream, but a dream still.

Lance sighed, disappointment hitting him hard. He should have expected it, really. The dreams had been getting more and more vivid lately, and even though they happened often enough for him to realize what was going on, he woke up disappointed and lonely every time. The feel of Keith’s hands on his hips lingered, the phantom sting of the aching bruises. He almost thought that there would be bruises there, if he actually looked. Everything had felt so real. 

Keith wasn’t real. He’d never been there at all. 

* * *

The sun was hot and too bright as Lance drove the borrowed car down the highway. He squinted his eyes as he drove, berating himself for forgetting his sunglasses on his dresser. They certainly would have come in handy right about now. Heat was escaping from the asphalt giving a shimmery appearance to the air near the pavement. It had to be nearing 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air conditioning in the car was barely working. 

Lance drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as the radio crackled with white noise as he drove. Country music played on the only radio station that was available along the route. It was old country music, not the popular musicians that played normally on the radio. Lance didn’t mind it. The slow and deep tones of the artist calmed his nerves. He’d been on the road for an hour with another to go before he reached the small hotel near the event arena. 

The thought of the event brought a smile to Lance’s face. Rather, it was the thought of a certain cowboy that made him smile, if he was being honest.

The first time Lance had taken notice of Keith Kogane was at the end of the previous season. The young man hadn’t made much of a name for himself at the time, but the minute Lance saw his muscled form struggling to remain on a bull for the eight second time frame he was _obsessed_. Lance fell hard. Keith invaded his dreams at night and rode across his mind during the day. 

When the chance to see Keith live in a nearby arena arose, Lance had taken Friday off of work, booked a hotel room, borrowed Hunk’s car, and hit the road. The few friends he had that knew he liked watching bull riding didn’t understand his fascination. They argued that it was a backwoods, redneck sport that belonged in the old west, but even still, they thought it was one of his cute quirks, so they put up with it. 

Lance loved it. He loved watching the cowboys risk everything just to experience the thrill of staying on the back of an angry animal. 

He also had to admit that part of the appeal was just watching the cowboys. Lance had a bit of a thing for cowboys in their flannel shirts, dusty denim, and worn boots, the hidden strength in their arms and legs from handling animals constantly. The obsession had started when he was a child watching old westerns on the black and white television that his grandparents had still owned. Occasionally, Lance still looked up those old films to stream on his laptop while he worked out even now, all this time later.

A bright green sign listing the upcoming exits passed as Lance drove. He had a few more miles to go before he’d need to exit the highway. Lance pulled his attention back to the road just in time to see a deer race across during a break in traffic. 

The sudden chirp from his phone made him jump, distracting him from his daydreams, and Lance reached down to the cup holder to grab it.

“Hello?” Lance pressed the phone to his ear haphazardly, steering with his knee as he got situated. 

“Lance? Are you there?” It was Hunk’s voice on the other end of the call. 

“Hey, buddy, yeah I’m here!” 

“I tried to call a little bit ago, but you didn’t answer. How’s the drive?” 

Lance checked his rearview mirror and merged into the slow lane, “Uneventful. Your air conditioning is so nice though.” 

Hunk laughed, “How far are you from the hotel?” 

He hummed, pulling his phone down to check the GPS, “Just under an hour it looks like.” 

“Okay, great. Are you okay? Your voice sounds weird.”

Lance laughed, and he would willingly admit that yeah, he sounded a little weird. But it was only because he _felt_ weird about it. He said, “I’m okay, just nervous about going by myself.” 

“You were so excited before you left though!” Hunk said. 

“I know!” Lance agreed. “But I’m fine, really. Once I get to the hotel, it’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I’m excited about it! It’s going to be great!” 

“That’s the spirit, buddy!” Hunk said, and Lance could hear the smile in his friend’s voice. “Go get all the cowboys’ autographs!”

Lance laughed, and even though he could have told Hunk that it wasn’t exactly proper rodeo technique to ask for the cowboys’ autographs, he was just glad that Hunk was going along with it and being so supportive. He was Lance’s best friend for a reason, after all. 

They talked for a little longer, and finally, Hunk asked him to be careful and have fun before they ended the call. Talking to Hunk helped settle his nerves, and as he continued down the interstate, closing the distance between him and the event, he felt a little better and definitely more excited for what was to come. 

Realistically, Lance knew it was kind of weird, especially because one of the major reasons he was going so far out of his way to the event was to see Keith Kogane in real life. After all, he was having wet dreams about this guy and had been for months now. 

At some point, it felt like he was taking it too far, that this was just _really weird_ and that he should have stayed at home and very, _very_ far away from Keith Kogane in the flesh. But realistically, this was perfectly normal. People had celebrity crushes all the time, and it’s not like Lance was planning on accosting Keith the second he met him anyway. Really, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. He’d seen the ads for the event, and when he’d told Hunk about it, Hunk had been the one to encourage him to go, even offering to let Lance drive his car. 

He didn’t know if he would even get to meet Keith at all anyway. It’s not like he was going to set out to find him and tell him he was sort of obsessed with him. No, _that_ would be weird. 

Lance was just travelling to an event that he was excited to see in real life. As a fan of the sport, he was very excited, and if he got to see Keith in person? That would just be an extra bonus. 

* * *

The lights of the arena were too bright and hot. Lance settled as close to the front of the stadium as possible in hopes of getting a closer look at Keith, the bull rider he willingly traveled a hundred miles to see in person. 

He knew that it probably wasn’t going to happen. He’d been daydreaming about Keith for months now, watching TV and keeping up with his events, supporting him from the sidelines. But Keith didn’t even know that Lance _existed._ Realistically, he was coming all this way to see a stranger. 

It was still fun to think about. Just the chance to see Keith in real life, to cheer him on in person when he otherwise wouldn’t have gotten the chance was too fun and exciting to miss. 

The open-air stadium looked as though it could seat around three to four thousand fans, which was an uncomfortable number on a humid summer night. The seats of the benches creaked ominously as more and more people packed their weight onto the aged wood. Lance was a little concerned at the sounds, but his desire to see the sexiest bull rider on this year’s circuit outweighed the potential peril of death by collapsing stadium.

The humidity was suffocating even though the sun had gone down an hour ago. Mosquitoes plagued the crowds and moths flung themselves to an electrical death at every light bulb. The buttery scent of popcorn buckets and tangy spices from barbeque pulled pork plates barely masked the putrid smells of horse and bull manure from the holds. Lance wrinkled his nose. When it came to the smells, watching these events on television had its appeal, but he couldn’t deny the atmosphere of being in person was thrilling beyond what he’d even imagined.

At the far end of the arena were the animal pens and the holds. Lance couldn’t see the bulls, but he knew that they were somewhere back there. The bull riding event was the most popular part of the rodeo, so it was naturally the last event of the evening. The audience would have to sit through the calf-roping, barrel racing, and bronco riding before the bulls even made an appearance. 

As the crowd continued to grow, the cold beers that his arena neighbors clutched in their hands started to look very appealing. People laughed and called out to each other asking about work and after health. Tight-knit communities were either a blessing or headache. Everyone knew everyone and their business. There was no privacy, but there tended to be a strong sense of solidarity. 

Another downfall of small communities was the lack of trust in outsiders. Lance caught several glances in his direction, not unkind, but more curious, as people noticed him. There were some brief looks before moving on, but there were also some interested looks. Lance smiled politely, but quickly averted his gaze back to the arena floor where the rodeo clown was prancing about and goofing off. He wasn’t interested in a random hookup tonight. He was here to see Keith Kogane. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The rodeo announcer’s voice filled the arena. “Please take your seats! We’ll begin in just a couple of minutes!”

Lance felt the excitement of the night build. He was actually _here_! He looked back towards the holding pens and saw the participants beginning to gather around the fencing. They were just far enough away that Lance couldn’t make out who was who, but he knew Keith had to be a part of the crowd. 

As he studied the growing crowd of participants along the fence line, Lance’s mind wandered back to the dream he’d had recently about him and Keith. A faint blush crossed his face as he remembered the details. The dream had been vivid enough that Lance had almost been able to _feel_ the burn of his muscles as he rocked above Keith, he’d almost been able to _feel_ Keith’s dick inside him, stretching him.

Lance pulled himself from his reverie and noticed that the event was getting started. The parade of participants across the arena, the presentation of the flag, and the national anthem were obligatory spectacles before the rodeo could begin. Lance stood and applauded with the audience, but spent the time trying to see if Keith was anywhere in the vicinity. 

Upbeat rock music began to loudly play as the audience took their seats and the participants took their place. The calf-roping was first. He had never particularly paid much attention to this event, unlike the other events that were far more high-stakes and endlessly entertaining. The crowd loved it, but half the time the calves were so used to the chase that the minute the cowboy lassoed them, they laid down and just waited for the ropes to be tightened and then loosened before finally running away. Lance watched the event only half interested, mind wandering as he watched the cowboys wrap the ropes around the calves’ hooves. 

The quick, efficient motions of the roping sparked a vein of arousal. Lance imagined Keith standing before him in nothing but his worn, leather chaps, hat, and boots, a well-worn rope in his hands. Keith would smirk at him and motion for him to turn around. Lance would _obey_. He’d try to run, but he wouldn’t make it very far. The rope would capture his body and hold him hostage. Keith would suddenly be next to him, pressing him to a soft bed, wrapping his rope around his arms, raising them to the metal headboard, and -

“Son? You alright?” A deep, slurred voice asked.

Lance was pulled from his daydream. It took him a second to realize the question had been directed at him from the older gentlemen next to him. 

“I’m sorry. What?” Lance asked.

“You’re looking mighty red, son. You getting overheated?” the man said, looking at Lance curiously. “Might need something cold to drink. You got plenty of time to get something before the next event.”

Lance felt the blood rush to his face even more. He hadn’t realized that his daydream was causing him to flush so badly. He nodded in thanks to the older man but stayed put for a few more minutes. His jeans were a little too tight to be walking around in front of a crowd of people. Embarrassed by his actions, Lance made himself focus on the rest of the calf-roping until his body calmed down. 

While the arena was being cleared and set up for the barrel racing, Lance wandered out to the concession stands located behind the bleachers. The beer was tempting, but the heat outside was still too much and Lance was sweating. He didn’t feel like having to fight the sickly feel of dehydration because he downed a cold one. The lemonade stand had a shorter line anyways. 

With a cold, tart lemonade in hand, Lance wandered the grounds for a moment. Some of the participants from the later events were milling about getting something to snack on and drink while they waited for their turn to compete. Lance stood off to the side of a hot dog cart and studied the crowd. He didn’t even try to convince himself that he wasn’t hoping for a glimpse of Keith. A couple of the calf ropers sent him an interested look, but Lance just sent them polite smiles before returning to his lemonade fueled search. 

Lance admitted defeat when he heard the crowd’s roar of approval as the barrel racing event started. He finished his last swallow of lemonade and headed for the nearest trash can. A clearing at the far corner of the concession area caught his. It almost looked like a bar set up. There was a set of benches and park tables off to the side of a drink booth. The ground was cleared of rocks and other debris to create a dance floor near a set of speakers. No one was milling about the area, but Lance could tell that someone was working inside of the closed off booth. Maybe it was a spot for later in the evening? He decided to check it out before he left the arena for the night. 

The barrel racing was more entertaining than the calf roping. The cowgirls were super competitive and glitzed out in bejeweled western shirts that shimmered as they raced their horses. Upbeat music changed with each competitor, inciting the crowd. With each barrel knocked over, the crowd groaned and lamented the time penalties added to the cowgirl’s score. Lance found himself jumping up and cheering with the crowd whenever someone made it through the course without knocking over a barrel. 

The excitement of the crowd was contagious, and by the time the barrel racing was over, Lance felt like he needed something else to drink. He sprinted for a bottle of water and a funnel cake before the bronco riding began. While it wasn’t as thrilling as the bull riding, Lance really did enjoy the broncos. A lot of the cowboys that rode the bulls also competed in the bronco competitions. Keith wasn’t on the bronco circuit this season, but Lance knew he’d competed in amateur circuits in the past.

Lance noticed another crowd lining the fence near the release gates. The horses were restless and shifting in the tight confine of the metal enclosure. Several of the cowboys were focused on maneuvering the animals into the correct location, but one of the men stood off to the side. Lance couldn’t be sure, but he was fairly confident that under the worn, brown cowboy hat was a mullet of dark hair. Lance’s pulse picked up at the possibility that the man he was looking at could be Keith Kogane. He wished that he’d been able to secure a seat a little closer to that side of the arena, just so he could be sure. 

The cowboy that Lance had his eyes on turned away from the crowd even more and walked over to help one of his teammates with the fence. Lance stared for a few more minutes before finally dragging his eyes to the first bronco rider of the night. The man was struggling to get seated on the irritated animal, and the crowd was whispering in excitement. Lance leaned forward in his seat as the announcer indicated that everything was ready to go.

Cowboy after cowboy was bucked off the horses. None of them seemed to be able to hold on until the time limit had passed. While Lance was absolutely positive that it had to be way harder than it looked, the poor performances made for an annoying viewing. He desperately hoped that the bull riders fared better in the scoring department than the poor bronco riders had. The crowd groaned in disappointment as the last rider was bucked off and hit the ground. 

The arena was cleaned quickly as the horses were removed from the pen and the bulls were herded into the metal enclosure. The crowd watched in interest. Barely anyone got up to get a drink or snack; no one wanted to miss a second of this event. Lance noticed the mullet haired cowboy again and a quick scan of the other participants revealed what Lance had suspected. It was _Keith Kogane_.

_Holy fuck,_ Lance managed to think, as he stared. 

From a distance, Lance couldn’t tell a great deal about the cowboy, but he could see the strength in those denim covered thighs. Keith would have to have a lot of strength in his legs to help hold his body on a bull that was determined to throw him off. It made Lance wonder what kind of power those hips held in them. Keith’s arms struggled with the ropes holding one of the bulls, and Lance felt his mouth water. It was fantasy central. Those arms, strong and thick, could easily hold Lance down with barely any effort. Lance imagined a playful struggle against Keith, which he would lose, of course, and Keith manipulating Lance’s body into the position he wanted. 

He shook himself before his thoughts went too far. He really needed to get it together. He couldn’t sit here the _entire_ time thirsting for Keith. He came all this way to watch the event! Well, and to meet Keith _hopefully_ , but that was beside the point. 

“Ladies and gentlemen! The event we’ve all been waiting for—bull riding!” the announcer bellowed.

The crowd started cheering and stomping their feet. Lance felt a moment of fear as the bleachers vibrated unnervingly. He could picture the entire structure collapsing. Thankfully, the crowd calmed quickly as they watched the hideously dressed rodeo clowns move in position near the gates. The music, which had been blaring a fast paced country song, faded a bit into the background, and the crowd went silent. Several seconds passed, letting the anticipation of the crowd build. Lance could see the first bull rider shifting slightly on the large, angry animal between his legs. 

The gate opened quicker than Lance was expecting. With a violent jerk, the bull flung himself from the pen and began his expected ritual of trying to fling his rider off. The cowboy held on for five seconds before falling off and rolling as quickly as he could away from the hooves of the bull. The clowns raced forward to herd the bull back towards the gates and give the cowboy enough time to get out of the way. The crowd _oohed_ and _awwed_ at the spectacle but groaned when the score was read out. A low score to match a low time. The riders had to stay on the bull for at least eight seconds without their free hand touching the animal. 

Rider after rider fell off their bulls as the night continued. Several made it to seven seconds before being thrown off. In one memorable instance, the rider had literally slid off the side of the bull as the animal jumped out of its pen without even getting a chance to stay on. The crowd had laughed while the cowboy picked himself up and walked off with his shoulders hanging in shame. 

One of the riders hadn’t been so lucky as to have the bull ignore him. He’d made it to four seconds before being flung several feet into the air and landing heavily on his shoulders. He’d laid there stunned as the crowd jumped to their feet in horror at the sight. The clowns had raced forward in an attempt to help, but the bull was raging. Fifteen hundred pounds of angry animal charged towards its former rider with the intent to crush the man. The crowd cried out as the cowboy managed to gain his senses long enough to twist his body out of the way of the deadly hooves. The bull finally allowed himself to be herded back to the holding pens as the clowns closed ranks on him. 

Paramedics raced into the arena to load the rider up on a stretcher to be taken to the local hospital. The uncomfortable moments watching as the medics worked were a good reminder of how dangerous the sport was to the riders. This cowboy had been lucky. Once, Lance had watched an event on television where the cowboy had been hit in the back with one of the bull’s hooves, effectively ending his career. 

After the paramedics had cleared the arena and the sirens of the ambulance had faded into the night, Lance noticed the next bull being prepped. A now familiar silhouette climbed over a fence and onto a bull named Whiskey Devil.

Lance leaned forward, the loud music fading as the cowboy settled on top of the animal. The worn, brown cowboy hat was easy to recognize, and Lance knew that underneath it, the cowboy’s mullet was unruly and unfairly attractive. The bull shifted, forcing the rider harshly against the rails of the pen. A strong hoof kicked the metal, denting it. One of the handlers holding the rope to the gate waited for the signal and then pulled it open.

Then, it was Keith Kogane’s turn.

The bull was angry. It bucked and thrashed harshly trying to throw Keith from its back. Keith’s body moved with the animal, his leg pressing hard in an attempt to hold on. His right arm was held high in the air, swaying with the force of the bull. His left hand was clenched tightly onto the hold, attempting to help him stay on the bull. The strength needed for this action was clearly evident as the bull ramped up its thrashing. Keith came up off the bull’s back for a moment but managed to seat himself again and continue to hold on.

The crowd was going wild. Shouts of encouragement and excitement filled the stadium. Keith stayed focused on the longest eight seconds of his life. The horn blared loudly, announcing the eight second limit, and the crowd screamed. Keith held on for another couple of seconds before allowing himself to let go. He barely landed on his feet, but it was a blessing that he did because the bull raced after him as Keith sprinted towards the closest fence. 

Lance gasped as Keith scrambled up the rails, and the bull decided he’d had enough of the chase before heading towards the gates. Keith jumped back into the arena and removed his hat. His scores were read out to the screaming crowds, and Keith lifted his hat into the air victoriously. He was the first rider of the night to make it to the eight second mark, which put him in first place.

The cheers for Keith continued as the man made his way out of the arena so that the next rider could take his turn. Now, Lance’s heart was pounding in his chest. He’d gotten to see Keith ride in person, and it was _everything_ he’d wanted. The only thing that could make this night even better would be if he could actually meet Keith in person.

* * *

The night’s event ended on a high note, and Lance was happy he’d come all the way here to see it in person. Keith was in first place for bull riding, but the rider that had come in second was close behind in points. All of the riders would be participating in the next night’s event to determine who went home with the prize money. Lance thought that Keith definitely had a good chance of winning tomorrow. 

Most of the crowd had left after the event ended, but a lot of the young adults had stuck around for the partying scene. Lance waited for the mass exodus out of the stadium before making his way to the public restrooms. That’s when he noticed the outdoor bar area that he’d seen earlier was open and people were milling about with drinks. Several of the barrel racers and bronco riders were mingling with the fans, sipping at their beers. He wondered if Keith would be among the crowd at some point. 

Lance decided to get a drink and find out. He ordered a local brew and chose a seat on the far side of the makeshift bar. It was made from long, rough planks of wood nailed onto sawhorse style legs. The stools were made from the same materials and Lance could feel the rough edges catching the material of jeans. It suddenly made sense why most people were either standing or sitting on the smoother picnic tables.

His eyes scanned the crowd with interest. After several minutes of sitting alone and swatting at the random mosquito, Lance felt a touch of insecurity creep in. He was sitting here, on a roughly hewn stool, hoping for a chance to meet a professional bull rider. A man who didn’t even know he existed, and probably had people hanging off his arms constantly. What were the chances that Keith would even notice Lance? 

Lance sighed, trying to fight back the insecurity. He was just sitting at the bar and having a drink. No one else knew why he was here, just that he was enjoying the event. It was that easy. He needed to loosen up. Even if he couldn’t find Keith Kogane and talk to him, it was still a fun night. He’d driven all the way here to see Keith ride in person, and it was great. Just because he came to the event didn’t mean that all of his fantasies were going to come true after all. He was just here to have a good time, and tomorrow night, when the events started up again, he could do the same. 

“Hey there.”

Lance turned at the sound of the deep voice behind him, ready to dismiss whichever knock-off cowboy had approached him this time. He wanted to have a drink in peace and try to psyche himself up for tomorrow night, where he would have one more chance to approach Keith Kogane and actually talk to him.

Even the thought, just now, made him shake in anticipation.

The dismissal got caught in his chest at the sight before him. Keith Kogane, in the flesh, was leaning against the bar right beside Lance’s barstool, almost close enough for Lance to imagine the heat rolling off his body.

Images from all of the dreams he’d had over the past few months assaulted him then, and Lance desperately hoped that he wasn’t blushing already.

_Say something!_ Lance’s consciousness was screaming at him insidiously, his deepest desires and dreams already shoving his commonsense into the back of his brain.

“Hi.” He almost winced at the word. _Hi?_ Was that the best he could do right now? 

The side of Keith’s mouth curled up into a smirk so familiar to the one he usually wore after winning a competition. Then, he said, “I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name?”

The slow, steady, and Southern drawl was something that Lance hadn’t been expecting from Keith. _God,_ his voice was going to star in every single one of his dreams from here out, Lance knew it. He was _fucked._

“Lance,” he replied, praying his voice didn’t shake.

Keith raised an eyebrow, smirk deepening, “That all?”

“For now,” Lance desperately hoped that it was charming and not annoying.

There was a brief pause, and then, Keith nodded, “Nice to meet you. I’m Keith.”

“I know who you are.”

“You do?”

Now, Lance wasn’t one to usually show all of his cards in the first round, but he didn’t want to play any more games than he really had to right now. Keith approached him first and asked for his name. Lance was pretty sure that his next step would be to buy him a drink.

Lance was also pretty sure, from what he’d seen and thought of so far, that Keith was a cocky, arrogant, and infuriatingly hot son of a bitch. A little ego stroking right now might get them to an entirely different kind of stroking later.

He turned on his bar stool just a bit, enough for the motion to cause Keith to look him up and down once, dark eyes appreciative. Then, Lance said, “Of course. I came here to see you win after all.”

Keith shifted an inch closer to him, eyes hungry, “That so?”

“Mmm. I usually watch you on TV, but when they said you would be here in person, I drove down for the weekend,” Lance admitted for some damn reason. It was like Keith’s eyes were pulling the truth out of him. God, he hoped Keith didn’t think it was weird. Was it weird? Why had he said that? This was weird and—

For however much Lance was internally freaking out, it must have had the opposite effect on Keith because he stepped in even closer, so close that his chest was almost brushing Lance’s arm, so close that Lance could smell the sweat on him and see the dirt and dust that still clung to his neck and jaw.

“And what did I do to deserve such a beauty coming all the way here to see me in person?” Keith asked, voice low.

Lance bit his lip and took a chance, looking up at him under his eyelashes, as he pitched his voice low enough to match Keith’s and breathed, “I don’t know. Why don’t you try to show me you’re worth all my attention?”

Keith’s eyebrow inched up, one side of his mouth coming up into a slight smirk as he murmured, “I think I can manage that.”

“You do?” Lance asked, leaning back on the bar, giving Keith a better view of his body. The nervousness he’d felt before was dissipating with Keith’s eager response, and stupidly, Lance felt like this was one of his dreams. 

Keith followed him, leaning in even more, eyes skating up and down his frame, lingering on his hips, shoulders, and chest. He said, “Assuming you want me to try, that is.” 

Lance made a show of thinking about it, enjoying the way that Keith’s eyes watched him, his dark gaze piercing and hungry already. Even though Lance was _dying_ to agree, his insides were literally screaming at him to agree, to pull Keith in and kiss him, he held back, watching Keith instead, pleased by how Keith seemed to be reacting to _him,_ by how much he wanted _Lance._

Then, he smirked up at Keith and said, “If you’re up for it, cowboy.” 

Keith’s eyes lit up with surprise, and then he leaned in even more, so close that his lips brushed Lance’s ear when he growled, “Meet me by the red trailer in 10 minutes.”

“Okay,” Lance breathed, their cheeks brushing when Keith pulled back. 

Without another word, Keith sauntered away, and Lance watched him until he disappeared in the crowd. Then, he turned and ordered another drink.

* * *

Lance took a deep breath and rounded the corner of the arena where several trailers were parked. He walked for a couple of minutes and then a red trailer came into view, and he stopped. His heart was beating fast, almost painful, and his palms were damp with sweat, forcing him to wipe them on his jeans. Butterflies danced in his stomach almost to the point of nausea. 

He was going to do this. He was going to fuck Keith Kogane tonight. 

In front of him, Keith was leaning back against the fence with one booted foot propped up on the lowest rung. His hips were jutted forward just slightly enough that his crotch was the main focus of his body. Muscled arms crossed in front of his broad chest, highlighting the strength hidden beneath the red flannel of his shirt. 

Dear god, this man was a walking wet dream. Lance should know, he’d had plenty of dreams about him. This moment was real, not a dream, not a fantasy, but real. Keith was a living, breathing man standing before him. A man that he could touch and feel, who wouldn’t disappear when he opened his eyes. 

Keith met Lance’s gaze for a long second before leaving an invisible scorching trail down Lance’s body. Lance was hard, _hella_ hard. He was pretty sure he could come just from Keith’s gaze if he continued to look at him like that for very long. The smirk that graced Keith’s face told him that he knew exactly what Lance was thinking.

Keith reached forward and pulled Lance to him until there was barely any space between them. They stood there for a long minute, staring at each other. 

“You good?” Keith’s voice was low, so low Lance could barely hear him, when he asked the question. 

Lance nodded quickly, carefully and reverently reaching up to touch Keith’s shoulder. Keith was solid underneath him, muscles flexing dangerously as he reached for Lance and snagged him around the waist, pulling him in. 

Holy fuck. This was really happening. Keith was _real._

“Wanna hear you say it,” Keith murmured. 

“I’m so good,” Lance replied, arms looping around Keith’s neck. 

“Alright,” he returned, and then, without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Lance’s. 

For a second, Lance wasn’t sure that he was conscious. At the press of Keith’s lips against his, he was instantly taken back to every single dream he’d ever had about Keith. The kiss felt strangely familiar and completely unexpected all at once. Keith didn’t kiss exactly like Dream Keith did. Dream Keith was rough, constantly smirking into Lance’s mouth. 

Real Keith, at least for right now, was a little softer. Still in control, still aggressive, still holding onto Lance tightly, possessively, but his lips were soft, easy as he kissed Lance. 

Keith pulled back then, just enough so that their lips were brushing, “Can I—” 

Lance put more space in between them when Keith stopped. He was panting, desperate to get closer to him, as he asked, “What?” 

“Can I tie you up?”

Lance whined, almost _desperate_ at the thought. Keith’s voice and these words put together were a literal dream come true. In fact, he’d had this exact dream thousands of times already. 

“You can do _anything_ you want to me,” Lance breathed. 

Keith’s expression darkened at his words, and he tightened his grip on his hips and pulled him even closer, murmuring, “Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

Lance nodded. 

Keith pushed Lance against the side of an empty horse trailer and smashed their lips together into one of the filthiest kisses Lance had ever experienced, completely different from the first, softer kiss at the beginning. Keith’s lips were dry and chapped, but Lance thought it felt like heaven. The dry scratch they produced against Lance’s was intoxicating. The hot, wet press of Keith’s tongue against his own drew a low moan out of his throat.

Lance felt Keith smirk into the kiss, sending him right back to how he’d always imagined Keith would be. He’d like to wipe that smirk off of his face. The thought was fleeting, especially as Keith’s hands latched onto Lance’s hips, steadying him against the trailer. 

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck and deepened the kiss. He needed air. They both needed air. 

Keith pulled back and looked Lance in the eyes. Lance stood there, panting from the kiss. This was really happening. Keith Kogane was in front of him, kissing him, _touching_ him. Lance opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Keith leaned back in, pressing his lips to Lance’s jaw. Whatever Lance had imagined himself saying died in his throat at the gentle sucking from Keith’s mouth, and all that escaped was a faint sigh. 

Rough, calloused hands hit smooth skin when Keith ran his hands under the hem of Lance’s shirt. The heat from his hands had Lance twitching slightly as they ran up his sides. Keith pressed his hips into Lance’s, trapping him against the trailer even more. A denim clad thigh pressed between Lance’s legs, forcing a grunt from his lips. _Yes_. 

A firm roll of Keith’s hips had Lance throwing his head back to harshly collide with the metal wall behind him. Keith huffed a small chuckle at Lance’s reaction and did it again. Lance whined, feeling himself harden uncomfortably in his jeans. 

Keith pulled away from Lance’s neck, taking note of the red marks he’d left behind with a small smirk, obviously satisfied at marking Lance up. The thought sent a shiver up his spine. 

“Does that feel good?” Keith’s voice was deep and husky. 

“Yes,” Lance breathed.

“Good.”

Keith pressed his forehead to Lance’s. His eyes held Lance’s captive as he continued to press Lance into the wall and roll his hips. 

Keith pulled Lance’s shirt over his head and spun him around so that Lance’s back was facing him. Lance’s eyes widened at the sight of the old leather saddle on top of a sawhorse stand. The heat from Keith’s chest hit his back.

“Gonna tie your hands now.” 

Lance nodded. Rope circled his wrists quickly and efficiently, tightening so that he couldn’t move them. Keith ran a finger between the rope and his wrists, checking to make sure the circulation wasn’t cut off. Lance wiggled them. Nothing. He couldn’t move them.

Keith placed a gentle kiss on the side of Lance’s neck and walked him forward to the saddle. His hands wrapped around and unbuttoned Lance’s jeans. Keith’s fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans and boxers.

The anticipation was killing him. He wanted Keith’s hands on him _now._

A shiver coursed through Lance despite the hot night air when Keith lowered his jeans to his ankles. He was completely bare while Keith was still fully clothed. The thrill of being on display for Keith was intoxicating, better than he could have ever imagined, even in all of the dreams he’d had about Keith. This feeling, the excitement, he was experiencing at the thought of this happening, right here, right now, was almost too much to handle, and Lance fucking _loved it._

Keith pulled Lance back against him, hands dancing from Lance’s hips and stomach up to his nipples. Lance leaned his head back onto Keith’s shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying Keith’s attention. 

“Lean over the saddle,” Keith said.

Lance’s breath caught in his throat as Keith steadied him and helped him settle over the seat. 

The hands that had danced over his chest now trailed over his back. They smoothed over Lance’s lean muscles, pressing into his sides. Sweat rolled off his skin as the humidity accumulated and his blood heated up. It made his position on the saddle feel a little precarious, but it added to the atmosphere, especially when Keith’s fingers paused at the dimples above Lance’s ass. They pressed into the shallow dips before burning a trail towards the top of Lance’s ass.

Keith pressed himself up against Lance. The denim of his jeans scratching at the soft skin of Lance’s thighs. Lance could feel Keith’s cock pressing against his ass as he leaned forward.

“Fuck,” Keith breathed, panting. “You look—” 

There was a pause, and all Lance could hear was Keith’s rough breath. When he didn’t continue, Lance looked over his shoulder, catching the flush on Keith’s face, the dark, heady look in his eyes and said, “What?” 

“You’re fucking _gorgeous_ ,” Keith growled. 

Lance felt himself flush with pleasure. He was literally tied up and bent over a saddle, completely exposed in the best of ways. The compliment from Keith sent a thrill through him. He could feel himself turning pink from the praise, and he turned away, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

_God_ , this whole thing was a _fucking_ dream come true. This was the stuff straight out of a porno, and Lance was _living_ for it.

A slick finger traced a path down to his hole. Lance jerked slightly at the cool touch but steadied himself. Keith’s booted foot pressed firmly on the inside of Lance’s left shoe, forcing his legs apart. Lance grunted as the position put more weight onto his chest. 

The cool touch was back and more insistent than before. Keith gently circled the furled skin before pressing one finger inside, Lance moaning openly at the feeling. Keith pressed his finger gently in and out of Lance until he was able to add a second finger. 

The fingers pulled back and returned with an extra coating of lube, the cooling solution soothing a bit of the sting that he was feeling. As much as Lance had imagined sex with Keith, he hadn’t thought too much about the preparation for the act. Keith was surprisingly gentle for a man with such a gruff and cocky demeanor. It was perfect.

“How does that feel?” Keith’s voice was short and utterly turned on. 

Lance knew how he felt. He was so worked up he could hardly see straight at this point. He nodded frantically, pressing back into Keith and rocking against his hand, “So, so good, give me more.” 

Keith added a third finger, but Lance barely noticed even as he begged Keith. He was already panting and squirming. He was sure he would have fallen from his carefully balanced perch if not for one of Keith’s hands holding him in place. A sharp moan was forced from his lungs when Keith pressed firmly against his prostate. The sound was loud, and Lance spared a brief second to realize that they were outside, where anyone could see them if they wandered over. 

Knowing someone could hear them, or maybe even see them? Lance bit down a groan at the thought. Everything was already so _much._

Keith repeated the motion again and again, and Lance cried out with each turn. His stomach muscles tightened, and Lance could feel his cock dripping in anticipation. He thrust his hips back towards Keith, which was apparently what Keith had been waiting for. His fingers pulled out immediately, leaving Lance feeling empty and frustrated at the loss of an imminent orgasm. 

“Hngh,” Lance groaned in concern, too overwhelmed to look back at Keith and question what exactly he was doing. Didn’t he realize how close Lance was? 

The crinkling of a condom wrapper calmed down his protests. He let his body collapse fully onto the saddle while Keith rolled on the condom and squeezed extra lube onto the tip. Keith tossed the empty lube packet and condom wrapper on the ground to the side of the saddle, then pulled up firmly on Lance’s hips to reposition him. 

Lance tensed at the feel of Keith’s cock pressing lightly at his hole. Keith paused and ran a strong hand down Lance’s back.

“Still good?” Keith asked, voice rough.

“Yeah,” Lance whispered.

He breathed, relaxed his muscles, and nodded. Keith pressed forward, cock breaching the muscle. A low groan rumbled from Lance’s chest as he adjusted to Keith pressing inside of him. Keith went slowly, which Lance would forever be grateful for, until he bottomed out. There was a silent moment, both of them breathing heavily. 

Sweat dripped off Lance’s forehead, hitting the ground below him. The only things he could hear were the panting breaths both he and Keith were taking and the pounding of the blood in his ears. The crickets and cicadas that had been present all evening had faded away. His world had shrunk down to just him and Keith.

“Fuck,” Keith breathed, unsteady.

Lance closed his eyes. Right now, he couldn’t see Keith behind him, which definitely made everything so much more intense, but he _wished_ he could. It was probably obscene, the way Keith looked right now, if Lance had to guess. Keith was probably leaned over him, hands braced on his hip and back. _God,_ the longer Lance kept his eyes closed, the longer he let himself imagine Keith behind him, the easier it was to see him, mouth open in pleasure, the red flannel shirt unbuttoned, sweat clinging to the muscles of Keith’s chest and stomach. His jeans were only lowered enough to free his cock, the leather belt hanging undone and loose. 

Eyes still closed, Lance felt Keith straighten up and brace himself against Lance’s hips with his hands. Keith pulled his hips back a little before smoothly pressing forward again. The movement was slow and provided very little for either of them. It was a test. Nothing more. When Lance didn’t protest the action, Keith repeated it with a little more power behind his thrust. And again. 

Lance jerked a little, pulling against the rope binding his wrists when Keith found the right pace. Lance could practically hear the smirk that Keith was wearing as he made a pleased sound when a soft gasp escaped Lance’s mouth at the action. Keith shifted his footing. The next thrust was enough to rip a loud whine from Lance. His cock was pressing uncomfortably against the saddle, but he didn’t care. 

Keith’s hips snapped into Lance’s with bruising force. The strength that Lance had wondered about in those hips earlier in the night came into full play. It was enough to shake the sawhorse that the saddle and Lance were braced against. They barely noticed.

The pad of a calloused finger ran along the rope wrapped around Lance’s wrist. 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance moaned, the sound ripped from him at the feel of Keith tracing the rope.

There was a slight pause in Keith’s movement, the hand on his wrists tightening on him. If Lance hadn’t already been so focused and fixated on Keith, he might have missed it completely. 

“Say it again.” 

The command was sudden, and Keith’s voice was hard, deep, so throaty it should have been a growl. In his fog-riddled brain, it only confused him and added to the intense pleasure he was already feeling. 

“What?” Lance asked, struggling to catch his breath. 

Keith’s hand jerked on the restraints around Lance’s wrist, and the rope slid against Lance’s wrists as Keith leaned down, chest to Lance’s back and _really_ growled, “My name. Say it.” 

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance moaned again, gasping and arching his back, “Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith.” 

“Yeah,” Keith thrust deeper into him.

Lance kept moaning his name, loudly, so loudly that he _almost_ cared that someone might hear them, but Keith obviously didn’t. He kept thrusting into Lance, tugging at the rope on his wrists. Sweat dripped off of their bodies forcing Keith to reposition the hand clutching Lance’s hip every so often. 

The detailing on the saddle scrapped harshly against Lance’s cock as it was forced onto the material from the power behind Keith’s thrusts. It would have been uncomfortable, if Lance had really been paying attention to it, and not how he was being fucked within an inch of life by _Keith Kogane_. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“C’mon, baby,” Keith said, “you look so good on my cock.”

Lance sucked in a breath. Those _words_. He’d heard them before in his _dream_. Keith had said those _exact_ words in his dream. _Holy shit_. Lance wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming right now. The dream had been so vivid that he’d almost been able to _feel_ it. Keith’s groans convinced him this was real, that and the sounds of skin slapping on skin and the faint squelch of the lube. 

“Can you come on my cock?” Keith asked in a breathless growl. 

Lance whined, unsure. Everything felt so _good._

“Baby,” Keith said, sharp, timing the word with a particularly deep thrust. “I want you to come on my cock. Can you do it?”

Lance nodded his head vigorously. His stomach muscles burned, tightening as he got closer and closer to finishing. His awareness zeroed in on the moment, on Keith, on his cock ramming repeatedly into his prostate. He wanted, _needed_ , to come. Just a few more thrusts and he’d be there.

“Keith!” Lance cried.

A sharp moment of blissful unawareness flooded over Lance as he came. His cock pulsing with the intensity of his orgasm. White strands of cum decorated the saddle and dripped to the ground below. The clenching of Lance’s muscles forced a deep, guttural moan from Keith as he continued to thrust. Once, twice more.

Lance felt the exact moment that Keith came. His cock swelled just slightly, and he buried himself as deeply as possible in Lance’s body. Keith’s body stilled as he emptied himself into the condom. Then, he allowed himself to collapse on top of Lance’s back and bound arms.

The world paused for a moment, the songs of the crickets and cicadas slowly emerging as the pounding of Lance’s blood calmed. Keith’s body was the only thing shielding him from the outside world at the moment. Lance found he didn’t care. 

He’d been fucked by Keith Kogane on a saddle outside of a rodeo arena. 

Lance couldn’t believe this. It was just—unbelievable. That was the only way to describe it.

“Fuck,” Keith said, and his breathing was still rough even as he leaned back up and untied Lance’s hands. He rubbed Lance’s wrists, soothing the rope burns as best he could, and Lance hummed, pushing back into Keith, basking in his attention.

After a few more moments, Keith pressed his lips to the top of Lance’s spine and pulled out slowly. One of Keith’s hands skated down Lance’s spine, and Lance eventually pulled his arms back around to the front of his body and tried to push himself up, legs shaky and almost numb.

“You okay?” Keith asked. 

Lance nodded absently. His brain still wasn’t back entirely. 

After another long moment where he didn’t move, Keith grabbed his jeans and pulled them back up for him, carefully buttoning them before his hands settled on Lance’s hips again. Slowly, he turned Lance around to face him. 

Keith’s hair was all over the place, having fallen out of the ponytail he’d pulled it up into earlier. His face was tinted red, eyes dark from lust, and lips swollen from biting them. He looked _wrecked_.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Keith asked, eyes burning. 

Lance blinked, confused, and one of his hands came up to Keith’s chest, hovering just above his heart. “What?”

“Was I worth your attention?” One side of Keith’s mouth was quirked up into a smirk. 

Lance grinned, though it was probably shaky from how _giddy_ he felt right now, as he said, “I think so, cowboy. You’re a pretty good ride.” 

Keith laughed then, throwing his head back and pulling Lance closer, almost crushing him to his chest now. He was still sweaty, but Lance was too so it didn’t matter. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck and hugged himself closer, watching Keith laugh. 

How many times had Lance imagined something like this? Now, standing in his arms after Keith had fucked him, it didn’t seem real. 

“Good enough to go again sometime?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Lance bit back an excited squeal, trying not to make it obvious that he was literally screaming on the inside at Keith’s words. Keith Kogane wanted to fuck him _again?_

He nodded, smirking a bit and twisting one of his hands into Keith’s hair, “Like me that much already?”

“Mmm, you’re definitely worth _my_ attention.” 

Lance preened at the compliment, leaning into Keith even more, humming as Keith’s hands tightened on him again. When he’d set out to come to the event, he never thought _anything_ like this would have happened. Sure, he had dreams about it, like everyone does with their celebrity crush, but Lance never expected any of them to come true. 

Especially not tied up and pressed down onto a saddle either.

* * *

The stars were bright, and the night air was much cooler than it had been earlier that day. The nerves and excitement he’d felt about coming to the event alone were gone now, but it didn’t make him any less nervous to actually be with Keith right now.

Keith was holding his hand, thumb rubbing across the back of his hand gently while they walked toward Lance’s car. They didn’t talk on the way to the car, and the silence was quiet, comfortable, even while Lance was internally freaking out about how all of this had turned out. He still couldn’t believe it. Surely he’d wake up at some point, right?

The event was mostly cleared out by now. There were only a few cars left in the field, and most people down by the arena were closing everything up and prepping for the event to continue tomorrow night.

Hunk’s car was only a few paces in front of them now, and Lance motioned to it with a low, “That’s me.” 

Keith nodded once and led him over to the car, hesitating once they were there, standing in silence. Now, it was a little awkward. What was Lance supposed to say next?

“I had a nice time,” Lance offered. 

Understatement of the year, but he guessed it would work. 

One side of Keith’s mouth lifted up into a small smile, and he said, “Me too.” 

There was another small pause, and Lance wasn’t sure what he should say next. Was this it? Was it just a one-time thing? It seemed like Keith had fun, but how would he really know? What if he didn’t want anything else to do with Lance now? 

But then, Keith met his gaze and asked, “Will you be back tomorrow night?” 

Lance smiled, wide, giddy, and he nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be here. Obviously.”

Keith nodded, almost to himself, and they were silent again. Above their heads, the stars were bright, twinkling in the absence of excessive light pollution, and there was a light breeze ruffling his hair. 

“Earlier in the bar,” Keith asked suddenly, breaking the quiet again, “were you waiting for someone?”

Lance shook his head, “No.”

“Then what were you doing? Everything was over.”

He bit his lip, almost nervous now that they were talking instead of fucking. He could wreck this before they even got started if he wasn’t careful. Finally, he said, “I was trying to get my nerves up to talk to you tomorrow before I left.” 

“Me?” 

Lance nodded, heart beating wildly in his chest, “I… kind of had a crush on you.” 

“That so?”

Keith’s voice was deep and intense, and it made Lance look up to him. He’d moved a little closer to Lance now, only a breath away from him, heat radiating from his chest. 

Lance nodded again. 

“How long?”

Lance wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it, but there was something in Keith’s eyes that was drawing the truth out of him. He said, “A few months.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that weird?” Lance blurted the question before he could stop himself, blinking up at Keith. He _really_ hoped he hadn’t ruined this, whatever it was. 

Keith carefully, slowly, reached forward, setting one gentle hand onto Lance’s hip. He moved in closer and murmured, “It’s not weird.”

“Are you sure?” Lance wasn’t sure why he asked again. He was really nervous. This was fucking _crazy._ He was talking to Keith. In real life. 

Keith chuckled, “Of course it’s not weird. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Lance felt himself flush, ears burning, so he ducked his head, eyes fixating on the collar of Keith’s flannel as he leaned into him. He didn’t feel half as brave now, talking to him, as he did earlier when Keith was fucking him. He’d never thought of himself as shy, but _wow,_ he was feeling it right now under Keith’s dark, intense gaze. 

“Do you want to know why I came up to you at the bar?” 

The question surprised him, and Lance frowned, “Because I was alone?”

Keith rolled his eyes, but the gesture was fond, and it made Lance’s heart beat even faster than before. Keith said, “Because you were gorgeous. I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“What about me?” Lance asked, biting back a grin and feeling braver now that he knew Keith was serious, that he meant it. He was desperate to know what Keith thought about him. 

“Your legs were the first thing I noticed,” Keith started, looking down his frame again. 

Lance paused, “I was sitting at the bar when you came up.” 

“That wasn’t the first time I saw you.” 

“When was?” Lance wasn’t sure he believed Keith about this. After all, he’d been on the lookout for Keith ever since he got to the event, so it didn’t seem possible that Keith could have seen him without Lance noticing. 

“It was a few minutes before the barrel racing, and you were walking around outside the arena, waiting,” Keith explained. “I don’t think you noticed me, but I was watching you.” 

“Why?”

Keith grinned, “You were carrying a lemonade too. Your mouth was the second thing I noticed.” 

Lance’s blush deepened, and he smoothed a shaky hand over Keith’s chest. “Really?”

“I told myself that if I did well tonight, I’d find you and try to talk to you.”

Lance almost _swore_ that his heart stopped in his chest. Keith was thinking about him? Keith was thinking about him _while he competed?_

He was going to pass out, _oh god._

“I saw you at the bar later,” Keith murmured the words, pushing in closer to him, so close their foreheads were almost pressed together. Lance’s back was against the car now. “And you looked so surprised to see me, which is how I knew that you at least had some idea who I was.” 

Lance nodded a little. 

“Then, you were so into it,” he whispered the next part. “You were perfect.” 

“Shut up,” Lance said before surging up to kiss him. 

Keith was laughing into the kiss, gripping Lance tightly and holding him close. They were completely pressed together, Lance hugging himself closer to Keith, taking control of the kiss, Keith responding to him easily, slowly. 

Lance couldn’t _believe_ this was happening. 

After a long, long moment, Keith pulled back from Lance’s lips and asked, “Can I see you tomorrow?” 

Lance nodded wordlessly, too overwhelmed to say anything. 

Keith grinned, eyes sparkling with a thousand different promises, and he leaned back in, pressing a kiss to Lance’s forehead. His voice was soft and easy as he murmured, “Tomorrow then.” 


End file.
